Читать книгу Seducing The Dark Prince - Jane Kindred - Страница 12

Chapter 5

Theia ordered a car on her way outside, and in fifteen minutes she was back at Phoebe’s ranch house yanking off the skirt and kicking off her shoes and grabbing a startled Puddleglum for a forcible cuddle in the papasan chair by the picture window.

Who the hell did that asshole Lucien Smok think he was, anyway? God’s gift to women, obviously. Showing up at Phoebe’s wedding trolling for Lilith blood was bad enough, but making up a job offer to get into her pants was pathetic.

Her phone rang underneath Puddleglum, and she ended up accidentally answering as she wrested it from under him before she saw who was calling.

Lucien’s voice carried from the speaker as she stared at it. “I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“I didn’t. It was my sister’s cat.”

“Her...cat?”

“His butt. Some people butt dial. He butt answers. Goodbye.” Her finger was poised over the button.

“Wait. Please hear me out.”

For some reason, she did.

“I’m calling to apologize. I screwed up.”

“Ya think?”

“I really did ask you to dinner to talk about the job. There was no ulterior motive. I’m sorry I handled the topic of your gift badly. I didn’t realize it was a touchy subject and maybe not for public consumption. And I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m not sure why I overreacted. But what I said was inexcusable.”

Well, damn. That was an unexpectedly sincere apology. But maybe this was part of his game. She wasn’t going to be stupid enough to fall for it twice.

“Okay, well, thanks for calling. Have a nice evening.”

“Theia?”

Something about the way he said her name, almost a plea, made her hesitate.

“Are you still there?”

Theia’s thumb hovered over the button. “Sort of.”

He laughed softly. “Sort of? Listen, the job offer was genuine. I realize I made assumptions, but I think you’d be an asset to the enterprise, gift or no gift. Is there any way we can start over and discuss it?”

She did need to learn more about the Smoks, and the whole trigger-suppression concept was intriguing.

Theia sighed. “I’m not a psychic, I don’t read people’s fortunes and I don’t perform on command.”

“Of course. That’s perfectly understandable. Can I ask...” There was a rustling sound as he changed position. “Can you tell me how it does work? If it’s none of my business, that’s perfectly cool.”

Theia hesitated, and Puddleglum jumped down to wander to the kitchen, offended at no longer being the center of attention. “I’ve been known to have dreams. Visions. But honestly? I don’t even know if they’re anything.”

“I think you underestimate yourself.”

“How would you know?”

“Just a feeling.”

Theia smiled despite herself. “That’s usually my line.”

“Why don’t we put the feelings and intuitions aside then? I’ll be at the lab tomorrow around two o’clock. Just come by and take a look around, see what we do. If it doesn’t interest you, no harm done. You can walk away. And if you do get any impressions of a possible prophetic nature, I’d be happy to hear those, too. But no pressure.”

“No pressure.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Let’s not go that far.”

Lucien gave her that soft laugh again. “I get the feeling you doubt my sincerity. Suppose I can’t blame you. So will I see you tomorrow?”

The word tomorrow seemed to float before her in brilliant blue letters. Synesthesia wasn’t unusual for her, but it was often a precursor to a waking vision. Either way, it seemed to indicate that tomorrow was significant. A sign she should heed. Interpretation, of course, was always the tough part. Was her gift telling her she should go tomorrow? Or stay away?

“Theia? You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry. Tomorrow it is.”

The same brilliant blue haunted her sleep. Not letters or words this time, but blue in the form of a small dragon. Like the cockatrice she’d dreamed of before, it had webbed, bat-like wings, the joints ending in sharp claws, and stood on two legs, the head and barbed tail the classic shape of a dragon from fantasy—the sort Rhea had collected as figurines when they were kids. But there was something wrong with this dragon. It dragged itself along the desert floor the way a wounded bat might, using its winged forelimbs to “walk.” And above it, the shadow of the carrion-eating cockatrice circled as before. And it was growing closer.

* * *

She forgot about the dream images by the time she’d finished grading papers from her Friday morning class and headed over to the lab.

Smok was using the university biotech labs while a larger, permanent facility was being built off campus. Theia already had an access card for her own research, though she’d never been in the biotech section.

Lucien greeted her in the atrium, looking almost surprised that she’d actually shown up. “Theia. Welcome.” He squeezed her hand like they were old friends. “It’s nice to see you in something more comfortable.”

She’d worn ruby plaid skinny jeans and a black fitted T-shirt—not exactly something she’d just thrown on, but she wasn’t trying to look good for him. The words of Violet Bick from It’s a Wonderful Life popped into her head: “This old thing? Why, I only wear it when I don’t care how I look.” Theia, of course, couldn’t pull off the sassy hair flip.

She just wanted to feel confident, and looking exceptionally cute made her feel confident. So did the approving look he gave her as his eyes lingered over her curves for just the briefest moment. Not so long that it was obtrusive and objectifying, but long enough that she knew she’d chosen well. And as much as she hated to admit it, that little feeling of breathlessness was back.

She’d tried to ignore it at dinner the night before, tried not to think about how his arms had felt around her, like he was protecting her from the world—or like there was no one else in it but her. But every time she’d looked up from her food into those depthless ice-blue eyes, her lungs had tightened like when she was a kid and had felt an asthma attack coming on. She’d had to chew very carefully to make sure not to end up in a repeat performance of the moment they met.

Today, of course, she’d gone with comfortable black cotton Mary Janes instead of the velvet heels, which made Lucien seem exceptionally tall, though he was probably just under six feet. She’d been wearing heels both times they’d met before, but now she was at her full height of a whopping five foot two.

Beside Lucien, an older woman in a lab coat held out a clipboard. “Before you go in, we’ll need you to sign a standard confidentiality agreement.”

Lucien gave her an apologetic smile and a little shrug.

Once Theia had signed it and returned the clipboard, Lucien led her into the Smok wing of the lab, which required a special passkey. “I can have them add the access code to your existing card right now if you like.” He held out his hand as if expecting her to put her card in it.

Theia kept her arms crossed. “I haven’t agreed to your offer yet.”

Lucien smiled. “You will.”

Researchers were hard at work despite the lab only having been in operation for a few days. The equipment—and presumably the technology behind it—was cutting-edge. Theia had microscope envy.

Lucien seemed pleased by her reaction. “This is our pharmacogenomics division.”

“Pharmacogenomics?” Theia wondered if she’d heard wrong. “Not pharmacogenetics?”

“Nope. Genomics. That special project I told you about is particularly dependent on genome-wide study. Smok is currently trying to pinpoint variations in a single nucleotide within the genome to understand the pharmacokinetic and pharmacodynamic effects for our newest drugs in development.”

Theia’s heart skipped a beat at the way the words rolled off his tongue. Most people’s eyes glazed over when she talked genetics. She was starting to see Lucien in a new light.

Encouraged by her interest, he gave her a little smile and went on. “The market for this drug is unique, as you know, and every patient responds differently. Understanding the epigenetics involved is crucial.”

Epigenetics. Now there was a term that was near and dear to Theia’s heart. The Lilith blood phenotype she’d postulated was epigenetic in nature, not caused by changes in the DNA itself, but by changes in gene expression.

“Have you been able to isolate the autosomal mutations responsible for the...condition?”

“We have, indeed. We’re well past that stage.” Lucien looked thoughtful before moving toward an isolated room at the rear of the lab. “Let me show you something.” He used his key card once more on the door. “Another access code I’ll provide you with. This one’s highly classified, since it has to do with our special research.”

He held the door for Theia and she stepped in, not realizing at first the significance of what she was looking at. Cages lined the walls of the small room, containing what seemed to be perfectly ordinary specimens—mice, rats, a snake.

Lucien closed the door behind him. “These are all animals in which we’ve been able to induce lycanthropy through gene manipulation.”

“Lycanthropy?”

“As a generic term, it doesn’t refer strictly to wolf-human forms but to any kind of trans-species shift.”

Theia moved closer to the snake—a juvenile albino ball python—to get a better look. “You mean...they all shift?”

“It makes it easier to study the triggers and suppression mechanisms when we know exactly what genes we’re dealing with.” Lucien pushed a button next to the glass of the python’s cage.

“What does that do?”

“Triggers the shift by introducing a mild toxin into the sealed environment.”

Theia bristled. “A toxin?”

“It won’t harm it. It’s more of an irritant. We’ll remove it and rebalance the environment in a moment.”

Theia was about to give him a piece of her mind about humane lab practices, but the snake had begun to uncoil, raising its head as if sensing them or perhaps just sensing the change in its air. And as it lifted its snout, the yellow and white pattern of the scales began to ripple and grow, becoming feathery, while the snout elongated into a beak. The reptile shuddered as it morphed, although she’d seen much more violent transformations. This, at least, didn’t appear to be painful.

The body shortened. Limbs grew—a pair of legs with talons. Soon it was covered in feathers, wings bursting from the flesh at its sides and a comb and wattles elongating out of the remaining scales on the head. A rooster...a cock. Theia shivered.

“Amazing, isn’t it? And just as we’ve triggered the metamorphosis, we can trigger the reverse.” Lucien pressed the button again, and in moments the creature was shuddering back into its original python form and curling up into its previous coil. “The gene manipulation is a shortcut, of course. We can’t exactly experiment with genetic modification on human subjects. Although human trials for the serum are the next phase. We’re not quite there yet, but we’re actively recruiting volunteers who already have the shifter gene.”

Theia turned to stare at him, thinking he might be pulling her leg, but his expression was serious.

“You see why we have a need for ethical oversight from someone familiar with the sensitive nature of the work.”

“You expect me to help you experiment on human volunteers?”

“Like I said, the actual clinical trial comes later. Probably at least a year away. What you would be doing is helping us map triggers based on genome. And making sure confidentiality is maintained as well as helping to establish a sensitivity protocol for screening volunteers. Which is where your special skills would come in.”

There was something unsettling about the idea of people volunteering such information to a large, profit-driven corporation, but she supposed someone with lycanthropy who was desperate to control it might be willing to sacrifice some privacy for the promise of a cure. Or at least the promise of a regimen for managing it.

The idea of mapping triggers, however—mapping them to genes—it almost made her toes tingle with giddy excitement.

Lucien smiled knowingly. “It’s a lot to take in all at once. I don’t expect you to answer right away. Take your time and think about it.”

Once he’d started talking pharmacogenomics, there wasn’t really any question of what her answer was going to be, and she suspected he knew that. But it wouldn’t hurt to sleep on it and think it over rationally. Or pretend to.

Theia held out her hand and gave him what she hoped was a businesslike handshake. Her palm felt small in his. Despite his claim that he didn’t do physical labor, his hands were surprisingly muscular. Not in an unpleasant way, but like he was used to using them for more than just writing checks from his trust. Maybe he worked out a lot and it was from gripping weights or something. As with his earlier greeting, his grasp was warm and familiar. Not businesslike at all.

Theia tried to keep from blushing at the contact. “I’ll definitely think it over. Thanks for taking the time to show me around.”

After holding her hand a moment longer, Lucien winked as he let it go. “Anytime, darling.” There was something in the way he said darling combined with the wink that seemed deliberately alienating, as though he’d realized he’d been behaving much too civilly. Like he was reminding her that he was a jackass. Well, it worked, buddy. She didn’t feel flushed or breathless anymore, just annoyed.